another old lang syme

I know you dont understand where I’m coming from. I couldn’t tell you on the phone why I’m crying and upset. Partially because I don’t think you’ll understand. 

My mother is cheating on my father, and I’d like to say I’m not all that upset about it. But that’s really not true I guess since it’s making me cry. I hate my father – he’s a biggoted asshole but he doesn’t deserve to be with someone who doesn’t love him. She used him – they got married because he had what she needed and he wanted a family. 

I wanted to ask her today if she wasn’t going to wear her engagement ring then I’d like it, because I’d wear it – he married me too. My dad’s just become this sick old man and she’s a skinny hot thing now. She told my sister she didn’t love him. 

I don’t want that to be my life. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I made a mistake. Or worse – to marry someone I don’t love because it’s the most convenient choice at the time. And then 20 years later tell my kids that I don’t love my partner (man or woman). I don’t want to settle. I won’t be with someone who doesn’t love me. 

I’m asking you about committment because you go and make this asshole remark about how Devin is having a house sitting party on Thursday and its supposed to snow and there’s a jacuzzi. You’re the one who told me the story about you and Alicia in the jacuzzi (or you and Devin?) but either way I don’t like it. And so I ask you to not make out with Alicia and you’re all – well it was Devin, we’re in an open relationship you know, and hes a boy. So what he’s a boy? If I was kissing boys would you be okay with that? Seriously? 

Don’t you get it? You have absolutely no idea how much all of this hurts me. And then you come out with some trust bullshit – really? You think I don’t trust you? Amanda I wouldn’t have spent so many hours of my life crying over you if I didn’t trust you. These days I have to trust you because my only other choice is to be insanely jealous and not be with you because I’d constantly make myself miserable. What do you want me to say? 

It came from the same place you did when you asked me not to kiss anyone while I was in Florida. If that came from not trusting me then so be it. But I thought it was coming from a place that said you wanted to be exclusive – just you and me. Maybe I can’t call you my girlfriend but more than just casually dating. We haven’t been there – we haven’t had this conversation. 

Then you pull the – I had the worst Christmas/day ever – card and you don’t want to talk about it. When do you ever fucking want to talk about it? I’ll give you a hint. YOU NEVER WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT! And it makes me crazy. So now I feel like a super asshole and I’m mad at you and at myself and we just fight and don’t talk about anything anyway. So I say when you’re ready to talk about this – you let me know. Because I’m tired of being unhappy. I’m tired of thinking about the future and being happy then. 

What about now? Why can’t we be happy now? Because you want to go out and party and play fucking games with me. What about what I want or what I need? Tonight what I needed was to talk to you for real. I needed you to talk back to me not sit on the phone in silence. I needed reassurance from you – some sort of reassurance that we aren’t my parents, that I won’t live that life. I don’t know, I guess I wanted some kind of promise you wouldn’t cheat on me. Not because I think you will – becuase honestly at this point if you were with someone else it wouldn’t be cheating anyway since we aren’t together – but because it’s sitting at the front of my mind and I’m scared. 

I wanted you to be here for me. I wanted to climb into bed and cry and have you hold me. Like I want to do for you – to try and make things ok. I know I can’t do that – I can’t make the fact that Nana is dying okay. Or that Maureen is slowly losing her shit and her children are suffering. Or that your grandparents are seperated. Or anything else in your life that’s going wrong. I can’t fix those things. But I can hold you and tell you I love you and promise you that it will be okay. Maybe not tomorrow or the day after that but that it will be okay. 

And I guess you don’t need or want to hear those things. Maybe I’m the one who has to say it to try and convince myself. So instead of believing it myself, I’m sitting here in my bed alone in a shitty house full of people I fucking hate crying for all kinds of reasons I can’t explain and don’t really understand. And once again you aren’t here and I can’t or couldn’t tell you how I’m feeling. 

Youre talking in this exhausted tone and I know you’re falling alseep. Or you just don’t want to talk to me anymore. So we say goodnight and I love yous and you hang up. And I’m still here alone and upset. Who knows, maybe you’re upset too – but I dont’ think so.

I think you’re annoyed with me for starting a fight with you when you have so much else going on. I think you’re annoyed that I don’t understand you don’t have time for my bullshit. You’re texting Alicia while we’re on the phone about how annoying or beastly I am. And she’s agreeing like the best friend ought to. I think you’re excited for Devin’s Thursday and you only told me because you knew it’d make me jealous. You’re dreading the wake and funeral this week and don’t want to deal with me. You say goodnight and then jump onto facebook or tumblr. Or you just lay in bed for another hour or two staring at the ceiling, thinking. Maybe you’re thinking about how I feel or about the divets in the tiles on your ceiling. Maybe you’re going over a list of the things you have to accomplish tomorrow or maybe, just maybe, you’re wishing that I was there beside you and you could fall asleep in my arms.

But I’m probably a fool if that’s what I really believe. 

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